The Problem with Trust
by HP-Forever-XX
Summary: Entry for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Forum, Round 12 - Ron and Hermione are living happily together a couple of years after the war. But Ron is suspicious of her actions, paranoid that she's concealing something from him. In a world where it's been proven difficult to trust those around you, can he overcome his fear and doubts that she doesn't really love him?


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition - Round 12**

**Team: **Wigtown Wanderers  
**Position: **Beater 1  
**OTP: **Romione! (Ron and Hermione)  
**Additional Prompts: **_"We didn't have to fall in love, we could've climbed down slowly" – _Upset Boulevard, Spector, Dialogue: _"Keep looking at me like that, I dare you,_" and _"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them _– Ernest Hemingway

* * *

**The Problem with Trust**

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed as Hermione entered the kitchen.

Her cheeks flushed with colour and she dropped her gaze, hurrying over to the counter to pick up her purse.

"I mean, really 'wow'," he went on, nothing but admiration and respect in his voice. He put the daily prophet down on the table, taking in the vision of beauty that stood before him, otherwise known as his girlfriend.

"Stop it, Ron," she mumbled bashfully, though it was with adoration rather than anger. "You're making me blush!" She ran her hands over her dress self-consciously, as though only feeling the soft satin of it for the first time.

"You look... great!" he said hesitantly. Compliments had never particularly been his strong point. But great she definitely did look. Far greater than great, Ron thought. She was dressed in an adorable little number of which he'd never seen before. A pretty little dress of satin in pale blue, with an elegant neckline to show off her beautifully curved collar bones, and a hem that crept up just past her knees. Her hair was knotted up in a graceful bun, with a few strands of hair delicately falling down to brush her shoulders. In that moment, Hermione Granger was the very definition of beauty.

"Wow!" Ron repeated.

Hermione let out a small giggle, as she was momentarily distracted from checking and rechecking she had everything in her purse that she may have required for whatever event it was that she was headed off to.

"So you're going out with Ginny?" Ron guessed, still in complete awe of his girlfriend's attire and general exquisiteness, constantly thinking about how on Earth he of all people could possibly deserve her affections above everybody else.

She faltered, only momentarily, but just enough for Ron's heartbeat to quicken and a mild sense of suspicion to pester at the back of his mind. "Not exactly..."

"Harry then?" he teased.

She ignored him, hurriedly looking through her purse once more.

"Well who then? Your Mum? Somebody from work? Neville!?" He was laughing, but there was an uncomfortable pain swelling in his chest. He knew Hermione well enough to know that she was concealing something.

"Look Ron, I need to go now or else I'll be late." She fled for the kitchen door, but Ron was quick on his feet, rushing to block the door just a second before she could seize the handle. In his panic he'd knocked over the chair he'd been sat on, and it made a deadening screechy noise as it scraped along the tiles, causing both of them to shudder and wince.

"I'm sure you couldn't possibly be so late that you don't even have enough time to tell your boyfriend the name of the person you're so concerned you're going to be late for." He was mildly impressed with how cool and icy he had sounded, without having faltered or tripped over his words once. But the effect was lost as the uneasiness of Hermione's attitude overwhelmed him.

"Ron!" she said irritably.

"Why can't you tell me?" he sulkily asked.

She merely met his question with a glare. "_Ron_!" She was pleading now.

"Just a name. That's all I want to know. A name."

"What?" she asked shrilly. "Don't you trust me!"

"If you tell me who you're meeting them maybe I won't need a reason why I _shouldn't_ trust you."

"Ron, this is ridiculous!"

"Then why can't you just tell me who you're meeting!?"

A painful silence fell between them, in which the two glared into each other's eyes, the old bitter anger that they would so frequently convey to each other, back once more. After what felt like minutes but could really only have been seconds, Hermione pulled her wand from her purse. Immediate panic flitted into Ron's eyes. Hermione with a wand was scary enough. But Hermione with a wand, when her anger was directed at _him,_ was absolutely terrifying.

He glanced nervously towards the table where his wand lay. He gulped as he realised he was completely defenceless against her. But was she really going to attack him?

In response she aimed her wand at the fallen chair, silently causing it to spring back to the position it had been in right before Ron had caused it to topple. Relief flooded his body, but all too soon, Hermione's fierce look was directed at him once more, wand still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Ron, move," she ordered. "I need to go _now_!"

But he stood his ground, refusing to move even an inch before he'd gotten what he needed to hear. "I will as soon as you tell me who you're meeting," he promised stubbornly, wondering how longer the two of them could keep this up. Somebody was bound to cave soon, and for just once he didn't want it to be him.

But to his surprise, something almost like defeat began to spread across Hermione's face as she lowered her wand. "We shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other," he continued, prompting her into confessing whatever it was she was hiding.

"I don't _have_ any secrets!" she said defiantly, though incredibly unconvincingly. Ron didn't speak; only raised an eyebrow at her in a patronising manner.

"Keep looking at me like that, I dare you!"

Ron was temporarily frightened by the ferocity in her tone, but remaining stubborn, he kept silent.

"Fine," she finally yelled at him, turning away and striding along the floor with a clatter of high heeled footsteps, putting enough space between them until she felt safe. Ron was immediately concerned. This was always her first move when they were about to start an argument.

"I didn't want to tell you who I was meeting," she said, "not because it's a secret or there's anything about it that I wish to be secretive, but because I thought you'd freak out and completely overreact if I told you."

Ron didn't say a word, unsure of what exactly he _could_ say to that. Who could she possibly be meeting up with that she knew would fill him with jealousy and rage? No names sprang to mind. "So who then?" he asked, now more curious than he was angry.

"Viktor Krum."

The effect on Ron was immediate. All the unbearable pain and un-relented hatred that that particular name stirred inside him was intensified to the point where years of bitter jealousy swelled up inside him like a phoenix bursting from the ashes. "VIKTOR KRUM!?" he roared, his face turning as red as his hair. "_VIKTOR KRUM!?_" He was panting as he paused for breath. "YOU'RE SEEING _VIKTOR KRUM_ BEHIND MY BACK!?"

"Don't be stupid, Ron!" she cried. "I am not _seeing _him in the way that you think I am. Don't you understand why I didn't want to tell you? Why I knew you'd overreact!"

"Overreact?" he shrieked. His voice was abnormally high. "OVERREACT? How could this possibly be overreacting when I've just learnt that my supposed girlfriend is meeting up with her old lovers!?"

"He was _not_ my lover!" she replied furiously. "And he's only one person. You make it sound like I've got a string of men on the side!"

"And what's to say you haven't?" Ron challenged.

"_Ron!"_

"I forbid you to see him," he told her sternly. "Now now, not ever!"

"You _forbid_ me?" she spat in disgust. "You can do no such thing! Ronald Weasley I am your girlfriend, not your dog! You never minded the other times, and this time wasn't going to be any different than before."

"Other times?" he exclaimed, aghast. "Exactly how long has this been going on?"

Hermione shrugged, looking guilty. "A couple over the past year."

The anger had drained from Ron, only to be replaced with sorrow and dread. Looking defeated he went and sat down at the table, slumping down low into his chair. "Well," he said weakly. "We're certainly learning a lot today..."

Hermione sat in the chair opposite him, reaching across to hold his hands tenderly. "Ron, you know I would never cheat on you. I'm not seeing Viktor behind your back. I'm not in love with him – I never was. He's my friend and it's nice to catch up once in a while, but I knew you'd take it like this, and I'm sorry that I never told you earlier, but please, _please_, just believe me when I tell you that I love you, and you alone."

Ron was staring into his lap grumpily, refusing to look her in the eye, despite the intense feelings of devotion she'd managed to conjure within him with her carefully chosen words.

"You never loved him?" he asked quietly, uncertainly.

"Not once," she promised.

"But you... you went to the Yule ball with him."

"That's only because the idiot I really wanted to go with didn't have the guts to pluck up the courage and ask me!" Ron let out an involuntary laugh, and then proceeded to frown after catching himself. "You went with Padma Patil," she pointed out. "Did you love her?"

Ron felt defeated as he considered this, and finally looked up to stare into her eyes. He was met only with love and compassion; none of the previous anger. "No, I was too much of an idiot to ask the girl I really loved."

She beamed at him, tenderly stroking his hand with her own. "Did you really love me back then?"

He blushed. "I don't know. Maybe," he shrugged.

Hermione looked crestfallen.

"I thought maybe I could love you in the future," he tried to explain. "I knew that what I felt when we were that young, could maybe turn into love as the years went on." He felt embarrassed to talk about his feelings so openly.

"And did it?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, which was plenty good enough for her.

"You were my first love," Hermione confirmed. "It was never Viktor, or Cormac or anybody else you may think it was. Not my first kiss, but nonetheless, completely my first and only love."

Ron sat up sharply, pulling his hands away from her. "I _wasn't_ your first kiss?" he asked accusingly. "I suppose it was Krum wasn't it! And you had the nerve to tell me you never loved him!"

"Oh, and do please tell me about _your_ first kiss," she challenged spitefully.

The colour drained from his face. "Never mind..."

"Hmm, so tell me Ron, did you love Lavender Brown?" she teased, but with light-hearted humour rather than jealousy, grateful that she was finally getting through to him.

He very nearly broke into a smile, but the insecurity was still lingering with him, until in a solemn manner he said "We didn't have to fall in love, we could've climbed down slowly..."

"That's very profound!" Hermione said in surprise. "But I disagree – I couldn't have done anything _but _fall in love with you," she declared proudly, rising from her chair and reaching for her purse once more.

"Same," he mumbled, but the word was lost, only to be heard by his own ears.

He looked up sharply, suddenly realising that Hermione was headed for the door, and that could mean only one thing... "You're not still going to meet him?" he asked, in a shrill voice.

"Ron." She smiled at him sympathetically, before turning on her heels to walk back to the table. She leaned down so that her face was only inches from his, creating a much more intimate and personal atmosphere. "If we've learnt anything about each other today then it's that we need to trust each other more."

"It's not that I don't trust _you_," he tried to explain, "it's just if there's one thing I've learnt from the years we spent fighting the dark arts with Harry, it's that you can't just trust anybody. The whole concept of trust is... hard for me to handle anymore."

She looked at him endearingly, filled with complete and utter love and devotion for the man that sat before her. She pressed her lips to his, closing the short gap between them. For a moment they lingered there, caught in a beautifully perfect moment where nothing but the love they felt for each other mattered in the world. She pulled away reluctantly.

Just before Hermione straightened up and walked to the door where she would then go and meet up with an old friend, she leaned in to Ron so that the very words she spoke seemed to brush against his lips. And with a soft and gentle tone, advised him that, "The best way to find out if you can trust somebody, is to trust them."


End file.
